


obdormisceret; ex somno excitat

by WildKitte



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Baking, Cheese, Fluff, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Like, Love Confessions, M/M, Nightmares, Sleepy Cuddles, actual kitten eric bittle, that's how cheesy this is, the cheesiest cheese you will ever find
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 17:27:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4675172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildKitte/pseuds/WildKitte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four times Jack and Bitty had trouble with sleep and one time when waking up is far better.</p><p>Also known as "romance doesn't cure insomnia"</p>
            </blockquote>





	obdormisceret; ex somno excitat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ShadowsLoveSong (shadowslovesong)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowslovesong/gifts).



> The title? The title. Latin. The little skills I can actually show off.  
>  _Obdormisceret = he falls asleep_  
>  _Ex somno excitat = wake up (from a dream)_
> 
> Dedicated to Dani who is lovely and talks about zimbits with me and is overall great. Ossu.

**_i._ **

 

Shitty wakes up to a bloodcurdling scream in the middle of the night and his first thought is _I should've paid attention in church_ , the second _what if it is a ghoul_ and finally:

_That was Bitty._

He's out of the bed before he gets to gather his thoughts and he pulls on the closest pants he finds, tumbling out of his room in the darkness. The screaming has already faded to silence which does nothing to calm Shitty down and he stubs his toe to the doorframe on his way out.

 

Jack is there first, of course he is.

Shitty is ready to rip the door off its hinges to get to Bitty as quick as possible but it's unnecessary as the door is open and Jack already sitting on the bed, hovering over Bitty who is sobbing quietly in his hands.

Shitty stops in his tracks immediately.

”Hey, Bittle... Bitty, look at me,” Jack murmurs softly, touching Bitty almost hesitantly. His voice is gentle, whisper-like, with a hint of fear and a visible thread of concern. There’s not much visible of Bitty, him shaking under the covers that Jack is trying to peel off him. They’re engulfed by the darkness of the room, not that Jack probably even thought of something as trivial. Jack has a one track mind when it comes to Bitty, Shitty knows.

 

Shitty comes closer and Jack raises his head, attention snapping to him.

”Jack--” Shitty starts, seeking for words, _an explanation_ would be awfully nice and Bitty seems too shaken to talk coherent sentences. Jack shifts, about to stand up and get to Shitty.

 

That is when a pair of arms reaches around his middle, locking him in Bitty's embrace who is still hiccuping with unshed tears. Jack freezes, Shitty stops and for a moment there's an awkward silence. Shitty can practically see the gears in Jack’s head turning, clicking into place. And so, Jack turns and presses Bitty's head against his chest and the boy relaxes against him, staining the front of his shirt. Jack doesn’t move, only towards Bitty.

”Apparently nightmare,” Jack says quietly, almost too quietly for Shitty to hear but he catches it anyway. It hasn't been a week since Bitty's concussion, so it makes sense.

”...Are you two gonna be alright there?” Shitty asks, he's hearing Ransom and Holster approaching (probably after seeking something to wear, as well) and Shitty is quite sure the last thing Bitty needs is more commotion in his room.

 

Jack nods, holding tightly onto Bitty. Shitty sighs and retreats back to the hallway.

”Take care,” he says before shutting the door behind him.

Jack and Bitty are left embracing in the darkness.

 

_“It’s alright, Bittle.”_

 

If the next morning Bitty bakes extra batch of cookies for Jack alone, no one says a thing.

  
  
  
  


_**ii.** _

 

The couch is probably contagious with who knows what. It’s common knowledge, and therefore the sofa isn’t in running to be the Best And Most Likely Nap Environment anytime soon.

That doesn't stop Jack from collapsing on its sweet, cushiony (slightly tacky and Jack doesn’t want to know) surface as he makes it back to the Haus after class. He's tired. He's hungry. He's more tired, though. He decides to take a nap.

Just closing his eyes, really. Not even a proper nap. Resting a minute.

 

Jack can hear Bitty in the kitchen, baking something, hopefully pies. He's blasting Beyoncé, probably dancing along to the songs as well, covered with flour from head to toe and smiling brightly. Afternoons like this are mostly quiet, a routine almost - Bitty bakes, Jack sleeps, Ransom is holed up with his books and no one else back home yet. And Jack likes it like that, he likes the routine, he likes the feeling of home, he likes the way Bitty sings along to his music, he likes the smell of baking lingering in the Haus like a whisper of a dream.

Jack smiles to himself and lulls to sleep.

  
  
  
  


_Except._

  
  
  


He wakes up with a gasp and falls off the couch with an audible thump, letting out an embarrassing yelp as he lands on the floor. He's sweating, he's shaking, his fingers prickling. So he checks himself, his surroundings. He’s at the Haus, he’s not in the hospital, he’s not alone, he’s at Samwell, his name is Jack Laurent Zimmermann and he had a nightmare.

The shaking doesn’t stop and there’s nothing Jack can do.

 

Bitty runs. Jack hears the thumping footsteps approaching him, and the next thing he sees, after blinking once, twice, three times, is Bitty's concerned face.

”Goodness, Jack! Are you okay?” He's upside down, from Jack's point of view. He looks pale, he's still got some flour on him and oh. _Oh_.

He finds himself falling again.

 

”Jack? Do you hear me? Your face looks all funny.”

That snaps Jack back to reality.

”Uh, I'm fine, fine,” he stumbles on his words and his heart doesn't stutter as Bitty helps him to sit up. This sweet boy, with his blond soft hair, his stupid music and delicious bakings... Jack needs help.

 

And then, the sweetest sound, bubbling from Bitty's throat to his mouth to the air, pearls of laughter and warm tones.

Bitty is laughing at him and Jack doesn't mind.

 

”Let's go,” he chuckles and helps Jack up.

Jack follows him to the kitchen, cheeks burning and chest warm.

  
  
  
  
  


_**iii.** _

 

When Bitty wakes up for the fourth time that night, he decides to get a glass of water. The fatigue is pulling down his lids, seeping through his veins to his limbs and making his steps heavy and slow. His nightshirt is too big and slightly sweaty from restless sleep and his thighs chafe together annoyingly, clammy and overall uncomfortable.

He doesn't notice him, when he goes downstairs. Pours himself a glass of water, goes back up.

 

And then. There's Jack. Leaning against the bathroom door he and Shitty share on good and bad days, his head hanging in a defeated manner, his left hand extended forward, leaning against his knee. The familiar, bone-deep worry and affection for Jack surges in Bitty and he treads closer to the captain, carefully, still holding the glass.

It's dark in the hallway, as expected, the only light being from the lamp on Bitty's night stand, his room's door ajar. The darkness is steady, it's firm and almost safe – except for people not wrapped under their blankets and lulled to the night.

 

”Jack?” Bitty tries out, his voice barely a cracked whisper. Silence. Nothing. Just Jack, his still form and Bitty, still approaching Jack, until he stops in front of him.

”Is everything o-- _oh_.”

Jack is asleep. It seems like he was halfway to an action, halfway to a thought before nodding off – the thought makes Bitty smile despite everything.

 

He looks around and then decides to take the glass to his room. He's quiet and as he sets the glass next to his lamp, he puts the light out and sneaks back to the hallway.

 

Jack is still there, inanimate except for the steady rise and fall of his chest. Bitty looks at him for a while and dreams of brushing the endearing curl fallen on his face back to its place. He crouches in front of the captain and smiles, leaning his chin on his arms wrapped around his knees.

It tugs in his chest, the feeling, the longing.

He looks so peaceful like this, yet still concentrated on something as usual. Bitty can't recall when he's seen Jack at ease on his own like this.

Bittle dares to hope he'll be able to witness this again.

 

A small sound makes itself known at the back of Jack's throat and for a moment Bitty feels a pang of fear pass through his body, cold and hot splashing against his abdomen at the same time. But Jack doesn't wake up and Bitty doesn't dare to move and he almost hears the Haus sigh around them, maybe the Haus ghosts of Ransom's giggling in the ceiling. And Bitty swallows past the lump in his throat.

He slowly gets up and then.

Then.

Settles down next to Jack, leaning slightly his way and as if on cue, Jack's body falls against him as if seeking something concrete to hold on. Another noise, more distressed this time, makes it through his slightly parted lips.

 

Bitty looks at him and smiles, feeling his eyes prickle a little at the corners.

_I'll allow myself this._

And he wraps his hands around Jack. Sleep comes naturally, softly, after that.

 

Bitty wakes up in his bed, tucked carefully under his covers like he never left.

  
  
  
  


_**iv.** _

 

A gasp, a rush of breath, panic, and he's awake with a jolt vibrating through his body.

Bitty notices that he's not, in fact, in his own bed. Last night was a party, that much he remembers but he can't have drunk so much because he's not feeling particularly hung over.

 

So. Sleepwalking. Bitty almost groans. _Not again_ , he thinks to himself, ready get up and sneak back to his own room.

 

Except someone is curled around him and his breath catches as he recognises the scent, he recognises the hand thrown around his waist, the _room_. And he doesn't dare to wish. He doesn't. This can't be real. He feels his heart picking up its pace, soon roaring in his ears as he takes it in, Jack's room and the sensation of his hot breath against his neck, he's hugging him from behind and thank god they both seem to have some kind of pants on and no one's having a boner (yet), so maybe if he can just quietly sneak to his room and pretend this never happened--

 

Except life isn't fair and that's when Jack stirs.

Bittle goes still and he can see early beams of sunlight sneaking to the room from the little slit of the curtains. It's orange and gold and it looks like it feels in Bitty's heart, warm and soft (not as panicked and absolutely terrified though).

He hears a sigh and the hand on his waist pulling back slightly and he's sure, this is the story how he dies. But then Jack returns his hand and curls it tighter around him, fingers pressing through the covers against his stomach and Bitty lets out a breathy sigh.

”Hm? You're awake,” Jack grumbles and his voice is crisp and low like a heavy winter morning littered with sunshine and Bitty has never heard anything so beautiful and he's going to cry when Jack eventually kicks him out of the bed and avoids him for two weeks.

 

He's already planning what kind of mourning pies he's going to make when Jack leans on his left hand under Bitty's neck and raises to meet his eyes with the softest expression that makes Bitty go a little, only a _little_ , messed in the head.

”Did you have a nightmare again? You look shaken,” he murmurs softly and before Bitty can even squeak an answer to him, he leans forward and

  
  
  


kisses

 

his

 

forehead.

  
  
  


And that's when they both freeze in place, Bitty red faced and teary-eyed and Jack equally red but more absolutely mortified. And the time stands still and the fear stands up and it all goes a little awful.

  
  


”I-I'm not dreaming, am I.”

”I don't... I don't think so, J-Jack.”

  
  


There's a deafening silence and they just stare into each other's eyes and wait for the other one to break, to react, to freak out. The seconds tick, moments slides into another and they just wait. For someone to give in.

 

Bittle makes the leap. Bitty decides to make the leap, because it’s either fly or fall and at this point he’s quite ready for both.

 

”Jack... Would I be right to assume that... you... dream--?”

And he can’t even go further, his cheeks reddening even more and the words catching in his throat, because even though he just heard it, from Jack himself, it can’t be, it couldn’t be.

Jack's horrified expression is enough of an answer.

”I'm sorry, I'll try to stop, I'm so sorry Bittle, Eric, I will--” he sputters into an explanation, ready to flee as quick as possible and the shame and mortification and heartbreak is almost visible on his face, it’s almost visible and… and it’s quite fine. To be perfectly honest.

 

”No, Jack, sweetie,” Bitty's hand rises to his cheek, hesitantly, and it's like the fight in Jack evaporates and disappears by the touch. ”I... I dream... too.”

And Jack never tears his eyes away, never looks away, until he closes his eyes and comes closer and this time Bitty has the courage to expect it.

 

They meet halfway.

  
  
  
  


_**v.** _

 

It’s another morning of not entirely lost causes and Jack wakes up first and he wakes up next to Bitty and it’s not a dream. It’s another gentle morning that isn’t filled with Ransom’s horrified screams, that doesn’t begin with Shitty being obnoxiously loud.

It's a morning wrapped around Eric, the sun breathing sleepily and warming them up and it's spring and graduation is near but so are they.

 

Eric's skin is warm and Jack runs his hand along his side, fingers tracing the soft skin and the muscles underneath, feeling the first whispers of goosebumps forming on his skin against the chill of the room and the Haus is creaking and sighing like music. Eric feels so solid and real against him, skin on skin, legs tangled, hair mussed from sleep, sticking everywhere and he is so beautiful, so unfairly beautiful that Jack never wants to let go. He will not. So he doesn't.

He nuzzles his nose against Bitty's soft hair, breathing in his scent and listening to his sleepy sighs. Eric sleeps mouth open, just a bit, but enough that he looks ten years younger – which could potentially be creepy, now that Jack thinks of it and backtracks a little.

 

He has learned that he loves to wake up like this.

 

Eric stirs, Jack can feel it in the familiar way his feet start moving against his and his back stretches slightly and he turns ever so slightly to his back and facing Jack. He's so sleepy and soft, reminding Jack of a kitten, the way he wraps up around him, hands kneading his nightshirt and Eric lets out a small moan. Then he raises his head and whispers:

”Jack?”

And he's still so tired, Jack can see, hardly capable to open his eyes and then he yawns and Jack feels like combusting because this is now it, what they talk about.

 

_“You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.”_

 

And so he curls around Bittle, embracing his lean body and pulling him closer, pressing his face against Eric's hair.

”It's nothing. Go to sleep.” And he plants a little kiss there, on the top of his head and Eric almost purrs.

”I love you.”

  
And that's how it begins.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a kudos and comment, and come yell at me on tumblr and twitter!  
> twitter [@wildkitte](https://twitter.com/wildkitte) tumblr [@wildkittewrites](http://wildkittewrites.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Huge thanks to my beta @peikko-lapsi again, without her I would be a sobbing piece of misery in the cave that is my room~


End file.
